The Devil in the Red Dress
by Uncle Charlie
Summary: While on a stake out, Napoleon asked Illya for a Halloween story. Illya's story is too convincing. Written for 2013 MFU Halloween Challenge


Alwyn

Napoleon squinted at his watch and yawned. "How long have we been waiting here?"

"A couple of hours. Max wasn't clear as to when the drop was going to occur." They were seated in a small alcove on the stone walkway. It afforded a perfect view of the neighboring hillside where the night time drop was going to happen. They were out of the wind and away from prying eyes. "Bored?"

"Just thinking of all the things we could be doing instead."

Illya's smile was sly. They were still finding their way in their partnership. Everyone assumed that Illya was a man of action and not the patient type. Instead, it was frequently Napoleon who shot into the fray, damning the torpedoes and anything else in his way.

"Talk to me, Illya, or I am going to fall asleep."

"Very well." The cold October breeze plucked at the blond hair, tossing it aside and Illya pulled up the collar of his pea coat. "Anything in particular that you want to hear?"

"Something Russian."

"Very well. I was not actually there for this incident, but my sisters swear it's true. For the sake of this story, I will call her Galina, although that was not her name. She was the daughter of a leading member of the Soviet _Militsiya_. Because of that, she had few friends and was never invited into the homes of any of her classmates. This made Galina very sad, but she was determined to have as normal a life as other girls her age."

"That sounds reasonable." Napoleon took a swig of coffee from a thermos. "Were your sisters her friends?"

"Hush, I'm telling you the story."

"Sorry."

"There is a big dance coming up and Galina was determined to go. She had purchased a lovely red dress and knew that it made her look very grown up, an important thing to a sixteen year old girl."

"Of course." Napoleon was leaning forward, obviously enjoying Illya's tale.

"The night of the dance, she came home from school very excited."

"You are not going to the dance tonight."

"But I must."

"I have spoken with the priest." Her mother talked softly, for although to be a Bolshevik, one should renounce religion, her mother still practiced quietly with others in their village. "He said that the devil would be at the dance and he will be looking for a bride."

"Yes, Mama," the young girl replied, looking downcast. "I will stay home."

"She's lying," Napoleon announced, shifting his position. "If she is anything like the sixteen year olds I know, nothing will keep her from that dance."

"It's true," Illya answered with a grin. "She waited until her mother and father slept and then she crept out and raced down a stone walkway much like this one. She would do anything, even dance with the devil for just a few hours at that dance. The dance was in full swing when she arrived, but from the moment she stepped through the door, all the boys were transfixed by her and her lovely red dress.

You see, Galina had no boyfriend. Her mother belittled Galina, telling her that she was plain, stupid and would never have a husband. Galina knew she was awkward and shy, but now Galina knew she was nothing like what her mother claimed. The boys crowded around her, begging to be the one she danced with. With a light heart and a lighter step, she danced with all of them."

Napoleon applauded. "That's my girl."

"She danced into the late night, the witching hour, in fact. She was very thirsty and decided to get a drink of punch. That was when she saw him, a man, not a boy, so handsome that it took her breath away. He walked up to her and offered his hand.

"May I have the pleasure of this dance?" he asked Galina and so taken was she by his physical looks that she couldn't even speak. They moved out onto the dance floor and Galina danced as she never had before. He spun her around and around until her feet felt on fire. They danced so enthusiastically that a great cloud of smoke rose and enveloped them. When the cloud dissipated, Galina was gone burned to ashes in her fire red dress and the handsome gentleman simply bowed, then vanished."

"The devil?" Napoleon's voice was soft.

"The devil. He'd come to claim his bride. Now it's said that Galina haunts the stone walkway, looking for someone to rescue her or stop her from arriving at the dance."

"Poor thing. I would dance with her. That's a great story, Ill…" Napoleon's voice petered out and Illya looked up from pouring out some coffee into a small Thermos cup.

"What's wrong? Is it the drop?"

Napoleon pointed. "Look."

Coming towards them was a figure shrouded in white mist. There were flashes of red sparkles, almost as if the figure was wearing fire. "Impossible," Illya whispered. "I made that story up."

"Too well, I think."

A sharp wind surrounded them as a helicopter flew overhead in the direction of the drop. When they looked back, the figure was gone.

"Open Channel K. Napoleon, Illya, are you ready?"

"Ready," Napoleon said quickly and jumped to his feet, Illya a breath behind him. They both raced away, their full attention upon the task before them.

It was a shame that they didn't stop to look back over their shoulders or they would have seem a small almost translucent figure in a shimmering red dress standing in the alcove they had just left. She was swaying to and fro, still looking for someone to dance with her.


End file.
